


Only If For A Night

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an ex-SHIELD agent and one of the very few people Steve Rogers is willing to trust, you agree to take care of Bucky for a night while Steve's on a mission.  It should be a simple enough task, if everything works out according to plan.  But when does anything work out according to plan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promised my tumblr followers something "big, involving Bucky Barnes," so hopefully this is a big enough thing. I know the trope of Bucky staying with the reader is painfully overused, but that's only because it works so well, right? Anyways, without further ado, I present my thing.

You had sworn to yourself that you would never get involved with SHIELD again. And technically, speaking, you weren't. SHIELD wasn't even a thing anymore, not after the stunt Captain America had pulled in Washington. But that didn't mean you were entirely sure what you were doing was the right choice. The problem was, when Steve turned on those puppy-dog eyes, well, there wasn't much you wouldn't consider doing for your friend, and you knew there was nowhere else he could turn for something like this. It would only be overnight, you told yourself, then back to normal. It didn't mean you'd be back in the field. It was just a favour for a friend. Taking a deep breath, you tugged at the bottom of your shirt as you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Having a sleepover with an ex-Hydra assassin hadn't exactly been high on your to-do list this week, but when Steve had given you the call, you had agreed to watch out for Bucky while Captain America was at work.

Despite your anticipating the doorbell, you still gave a small start when it rang, and as you reached your hand out to unlock the door, you noticed a slight tremor. Your anxiety disappeared as quickly as it had come when you opened the door to see Steve Rogers smiling down at you. 

"Thank you so much for doing this. I know it's not ideal, but..." Steve's voice trailed off as a second figure came into view. He was just as tall as Steve, and just as built. His hair was long and brown, and a five o'clock shadow shaded his jaw. His eyes were a bright blue, but they were tired. There was no question about it - this was Bucky Barnes.

"It's fine. I understand." You smiled in Bucky's direction, but his only response was to clench his jaw tighter than it already was. Steve saw this and put a hand on Bucky's arm. 

"Buck, this is [Y/N]. She used to work at SHIELD, but things didn't pan out. You're gonna be staying here while I'm out on a mission, alright?"

Bucky nodded stiffly and let Steve lead him into your apartment. Once Bucky was seated, Steve came back over to you to speak in hushed tones.

"He's got PTSD, I think. A lot of the guys in the army get it, Sam says. There's not much you can do, I've gotten that. And he has nightmares. They're really bad. But he won't hurt anyone. I'm just a phone call away if anything goes wrong." He paused, considering the look on your face. "Not that anything will. You don't have anything to worry about." He added hurridly. You smiled softly. 

"Neither do you, Captain." 

You adjourned yourself into the kitchen while Steve went to say his goodbyes to Bucky. Even busying yourself with making coffee, however, didn't block out the entire conversation going on in the other room.

"Trust her - SHIELD - I'd never - " That was Steve.  
"No - why - scared - " Bucky's voice was quieter, but it broke on the final word. You poured out two cups and loudly announced your return. Steve straigtened up and cleared his throat. 

"Better get going. Natasha's waiting downstairs." He said, heading for the door. "Thanks again." He added as he passed you. You raised a mug to him and crossed the room. As Steve closed the door, you sat down on the armchair across from where Bucky was sitting stone-still, perched on the edge of the couch.

"I... made coffee. If you... drink that sort of thing." You said awkwardly. Bucky examined the mug where you had set it down on the table.

"Why?" He asked suddenly. You looked up from your cup, accidentally meeting his eyes. You couldn't help but notice how geniune he looked in asking you this.

"Why did I make you coffee?" You clarified. That wasn't the kind of question you were used to being asked. Bucky nodded once. 

"Because... well, your my guest. I'm not going to make you make your own coffee." You hoped that was a good enough answer.

Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

It wsa probably the most heartfelt thank you that you'd heard in your entire life, and it was for a cup of coffee. Something about that just tugged at your heart. Trying to act casual, you took a sip of your drink, and finding it too hot, you put it down and opted to make conversation instead.

"You aren't used to people being nice to you, are you?" You blurted out. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was really insensitive. I just meant that you can't have had a very good- well, it's - I can shut up, if you want."

Bucky quirked his head to one side. "You don't have to." He replied.

You crossed your legs underneath you in your chair and leaned back. "But... you're alright?" You asked, hesitant to speak too quickly again.

"I'm fine." He didn't look fine, though.  
Wildly, you tried to think of something to say. Fishing through your mind, the same thing kept coming up. _Tell him about what happened. Just tell him. Maybe he'll feel more comfortable if you tell him._ Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your next statement. The memories came back to you as easily as anything. You could still feel the walls closing in around you, smell the thick air and hear the voices, just out of reach... Steeling yourself, you finally spoke.

"Before I resigned, I was captured by enemy forces. I spent three months in a box building tech for the bad guys." You rambled out. "That... that was a walk in the park compared to what Steve told be about you. You don't have to pretend you're okay for my sake, Bucky. Look, I know I'm probably pushing too hard, and like I said, you can tell me to shut up if you want, but I just want you to know I can help." 

Bucky's eyes were staring right into yours, as if trying to decide whether he could trust you or not. A moment passed in painful silence before Bucky came to his conclusion and spoke in a soft voice.

"Steve sleeps with me."

"What?"

"He told you, didn't he? I have... nightmares. He would sleep by me."

He was waiting on the edge of his seat for a reaction.

"I knew... about the nightmares, but..." You didn't know what to say. Steve had never told you.

"Will you?"

Bucky's voice was pleading. He asked it of you hesitantly, perhaps for fear you would say no, but there was no way you could say no. You had promised Steve to keep him safe, and you would keep that promise.

"Of course. Yeah, of course I will."

For the first time, Bucky's lips relaxed into a slight smile. You found yours curving upwards as well, your entire body relaxing as you decided Bucky's company wouldn't be so terrible after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. This chapter isn't much longer than the first.
> 
> And there are more terrible tropes in this chapter because I'm a horrible person and my creative writing teacher has taught me nothing.

Bucky didn't try to force conversation, which you immensely appreciated. After you had promised to stay with him overnight, he had visibly relaxed. To pass the time, you showed him how to play Wii Sports and played a few innings of baseball. After Bucky's sixth home run, you called it quits and showed him how to use the shower instead. "At least you can't beat me at showering," you had said. While Bucky got cleaned up, you ordered a pizza and curled up on the couch to text Steve. He had just left SHIELD and was set to arrive at his top secret mission location in a few hours. You assured him that everything was going fine, Bucky was nothing but a perfect guest, and you were comepletely capable of taking care of everything until he got back. 

The pizza arrived as Bucky was coming out of the shower, and you opted to just eat on the couch. You had managed three pieces to Bucky's nine, and were considering making some cookies or something because Bucky seemed to be rather disappointed the pizza had run out, but your train of thought was interrupted by a yawn. Glancing at your watch, you realized it was past nine already, which meant that it was already time to start preparing for bed. Although a part of you wanted to treat Bucky as you would anyone else, another part was entirely self-concious of everything you did. It wasn't every day that you casually slept beside someone you hardly knew, and a strange sort of anticipation was growing in your mind. You had carefully selected your pajamas, settling on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. That was normal, wasn't it? As you were brushing your teeth, you heard movement in your bedroom and poked your head out the door to find Bucky standing beside your bed, in the process of pulling his shirt over his head. In that moment, you weren't entirely sure you didn't have a glob of toothpaste trailing down your chin as you stared at Bucky. His chest was so well-defined, and his arms, by the hammer of Thor, his _arms_! The right arm was his own, dotted with scars but muscular nonetheless. Much as you didn't want to stare, however, it was the left arm that drew your eye. It was fused to his skin at the shoulder, smooth and silver with a red star just above the bicep. You didn't know how long you'd been starting when Bucky's voice called you back to reality.

"I - I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were-"

Trying not to choke on your toothpaste, you replied. "Nah, 's okay. 'M jus' naw-" You held up a finger for him to wait, slipped back into the bathroom, spat, and popped back out. "Sorry. I'm just not used to having company. Especially..." Your voice trailed off. Especially what? Extremely attractive, totally built, but comepletely mentally unstable dudes?

"You don't have to stay," Bucky started quickly. "If you don't want. One night alone, it isn't gonna-" But you had made your promise, to Steve and to Bucky. 

"Of course I'm gonna stay." You assured him. Bucky let out an audible sigh of relief. It hurt to see him so prone to worrying people were going to leave, but you didn't know what you could do except be there for him. Slowly, you crossed the room to crawl into your bed, tossing the covers open on the other side and patting the space beside you. You put on your brightest smile and tried to lighten the mood. "I haven't had a sleepover in ten years."

Bucky approached hesitantly, as if he were expecting the bed to run away if he came at it too quickly. He lay his right hand on the mattress, then his left. Finally, he sat down and the bed drooped under his weight. Watching him, you noticed he had put his hair up in a bun and you suddenly couldn't supress a slight giggle.

"What?" Bucky's head whipped around.

"No - it's just - your hair. That's how I do mine, too."

He cocked his head to one side, lips pouting slightly.

"I guess it isn't that funny," You shook your head. "Can I turn out the light?"

"No." Bucky said abruptly. Your hand froze as it was reaching out for your lamp.

"No," Bucky said again. "It is kind of funny." He offered you a small smile, just one corner of his lip turned up. "You can turn that out."

The lamp clicked off and you were in darkness. Your breathing became steadier, and soon Bucky's fell into the same pace. You knew he was asleep when his breathing was interrupted by small snores. Just as your eyes were becoming too heavy to bear, however, a different noise from Bucky caught your attention.

He was _whimpering_.

In all honesty, you should have expected this. So why did you have no clue what to do? Propping yourself up in bed, you looked at Bucky as best you could in the darkness. His brows were knitted together in concentration and his lips were moving slightly, mouthing something.

"Bucky...?" You whispered.

In response, his volume increased. You didn't know much Russian, but the word falling repeatedly from Bucky's lips was easy enough to understand.

"нет. нет. нет."

No. No. _No!_

He was paralyzed in fear, his entire body lay on the bed, eerily still, save for his lips. More words were coming out now, but they were too frantic to understand. Bucky had his eyes squeezed shut now, and then the spasms began. Not knowing what else to do, you placed a hand on his right shoulder - whether to comfort him or hold him down you weren't sure - but as soon as your palm touched flesh, there was something cold around your neck. Quickly as the metal fingers had secured themselves around you, they were gone and you were being tossed through the air like a rag doll. Suddenly, the pain of having crashed to a stop was shooting through your head. Drywall dust powedered your hair, and you could feel blood trickling from your nose. There was a pounding in your ears - was that your heart? - and something else. A voice. Bucky's voice.

"No-" he was saying. Where was he? "What have I done?" If you could just... "So sorry." Bucky, please. "I'm a monster." No, that's the farthest thing from the truth. You thought you heard crying, but before you could decide if it was his or yours, everything faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Я сказал нет! = I said no!  
> Я просто хочу , чтобы увидеть ее! = I just want to see her!
> 
> I apologize for (a): the ridiculously long wait, and (b): this ridiculously short chapter. I've got two major essays to write in the next couple of weeks, but after that, I'm practically free from school, so here's hoping things will become more regular after that. Cheers.

You awoke to the rhythmic beeping of hospital monitors. To one side you could see your own heartbeat, a thin green line shooting upwards and downwards - a little sporadically for your tastes, but an overall reassuring sight. When you moved to turn your head, a slight pain shot through it. You hadn't felt pain like this before, not since... for one terrifying second you were transported from your hospital bed to the cold cement floor of a cellar. There was a pounding at the metal door, and Natasha was whispering your name. Wait.

"[Y/N]?" Natasha Romanoff was leaning over you from a chair by the side of your bed. Her hair was tied up and she was wearing sweats and what appeared to be a men's t-shirt under her coat. "Thank goodness. You took quite the hit. Really did a number on the wall, too."

It was all coming back to you now. Bucky. The nightmare. The being knocked out. "Nnng?" You managed to say. Nat leaned back in her chair. 

"No big deal though. Steve will probably cover it. Speaking of, Steve's back early."

Of course Steve was back early. You'd have been much more suprised if he hadn't come running back home after hearing what had happened. 

"Bucky...?" You started to sit up, but your head swam, so you flopped back down into the hospital bed. Natasha knew what you were asking, though. 

"I'm not going to lie to you, we don't know. He split pretty fast after he called the ambulance. Steve's out looking for him." 

Damn it. If only you had managed to stay concious - Bucky wouldn't have run, Steve wouldn't have had to come back early... 

"It's not your fault." Natasha said firmly, as if she had heard where your thoughts were headed. "Even Steve doesn't know how Bucky will react all the time. But none of us can blame ourselves. Or him." 

She was right, of course. The only people they could blame were HYDRA, and even that was hard. Steve had barely been able to track down the agents he had, let alone anyone who could've had anything to do with the Winter Soldier program. A sharp pain shot through your side, up your head, and you realized you were gritting your teeth. 

"Get some rest." Natasha said suddenly, standing up. "Oh, and I told the nurse you fell down some stairs, so..." 

She hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

You weren't keen on making any large movements, but when left alone, you focused on pushing yourself up out of the bed to sit on the side. You noticed that you'd been changed from your pyjamas into a hospital gown, and there was a clip on your finger monitoring your heartbeat. Even if you had wanted to move around, the cord would keep you within a few feet of the moitors at the side of your bed, so you contented yourself with sitting, facing the window. 

The blinds were drawn, but you could make out a few shapes moving on the other side. Three, maybe. If you focused hard enough, you could hear the faint murmur of voices as well. Or maybe that was just your mind playing tricks. No, it couldn't be. The voices got louder, loud enough to make out that one of them was Natasha's. You could make out words now, but found that a useless achievment as she was shouting in Russian. 

"Я сказал нет!" 

It didn't matter though - there was only one other person who Natasha could be talking to, though. Only one other person who spoke Russian. 

"Я просто хочу , чтобы увидеть ее!" 

They found him. You were terribly relieved to hear Bucky's voice drifting under the door, even if his voice did sound stressed. For a fleeting moment you thought of trying to open the blinds to wave at him - just some indication that you were alright - but had a feeling Nat would strap you to the bed if you attempted to move around before the doctor gave you express permission. Then again, Natasha herself had saved the world on a broken ankle, so how mad could she get? 

Steeling yourself for the dizziness, you dropped your bare feet to the floor and stood up. Clutching the bed with one hand, you shuffled a few inches. Suddenly self-concious, you smoothed out your hospital gown, ran a hand through your hair (and was only relatively shocked to find a large bump hiding underneath it), and straightened your shoulders - which sent another pain up your side. It took you a few moments to gather yourself again before the long trek to the door. Finally, you began to shuffle your way there, shivering slightly in the slip of a dress they had given you. Your hand reached out and made contact with the doorknob. Was the door really that heavy, or were you in even worse shape than you thought? Either way, you were now standing in the hallway, and the three shapes that were outside your window turned out to be four. Sam was leaning against the back wall and Steve was standing in the middle of the hallway while Natasha sqaured off against Bucky, her face like granite. The mask dropped when she saw you, though, which prompted Bucky to turn around. The moment he saw you, his mouth dropped open and his eyes shot down to the floor. They were bloodshot - tired. Sad. 

"Hi." You said quietly. He didn't look up. You followed his gaze downward. The floor was that off-white linoleum with the little brown specks. You stared hard at them, not knowing if you should say anything. All the specks started blurring together, though, and you soon felt yourself becoming nauseous again. You wavered a little on the spot, threatening to fall before two strong arms wrapped around you. 

"You alright?" Steve asked. Only one of the arms was his. The other quickly retracted. Bucky stepped backwards a few paces when you made eye contact with him, murmuring an apology. 

"Bucky..." You started. But what were you supposed to say? It's not your fault? Obviously. I'm fine? Obviously not. 

He was staring at you now, waiting for you to say something important. And Sam was looking too. Natasha, too, probably, but you didn't dare turn your head to meet her gaze. 

"Still friends?" You asked. Bucky tilted his head to the side. You stepped out of Steve's grasp and closer to Bucky, putting out a hand. Cautiously, he took it. 

"Yeah." He said, his eyes not moving from yours. "Friends."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god idk if my chapters are really short or what but they feel short
> 
> if they're short someone tell me i will make the next one longer um

As soon as the nurse caught you out of bed, he rushed you back inside, refusing to allow your friends to follow. You resigned to your lonely fate quickly, allowing the nurse to hook you back up to the heart rate monitor with little struggle. He assured you that you could check out tomorrow, and you soon after fell into a fitful sleep populated with dreams of HYDRA agents and surgeons in red.

_On one side of you, a table covered in all sorts of metal tools sat. Some of them looked like they belonged at the dentist's office, others from a toolkit. All of them were flecked with red. You could taste metal in your mouth, and when you swallowed, you choked on the taste. Opening your mouth, you tried to gasp for air, but blood was pouring out of your mouth now, and a strong hand was pushing you down into the bed. You thrashed around and screamed, spitting blood up at the man in front of you, but to no avail. He was completely unperturbed by your resistance. When he spoke, it was in a thick accent. "If you would simply comply, everything would be just fine."_

You woke with a start. You hadn't had that dream in months, why would...? You took in your surroundings and remembered again. The hospital setting must've triggered you. A chill ran up your spine as you slipped out of bed and shed your robe. In a cupboard you found the street clothes Natasha had dropped off the day before. With little trouble, you pulled on the skinny jeans and t-shirt, ran a hand through your tangled hair, and set off out of the room.

You could see it was barely dawn as you made your way past the triage desk, hoping to escape without notice. Whatever you thought your SHIELD training would help you with, however, you were unsuccessful. The woman at the desk saw you.

"Are you checking out, ma'am?"

Don't you "ma'am" me, you thought, briefly remembering the day you had first met Steve, when you had said the same thing. He had laughed and apologized, It took you a moment to realize the secretary was still waiting for an answer.

"Err, yeah. They said I could go today."

"Well I'm afraid you need someone else to come check you out, so that we know you can get home safely."

"Oh."

"And you're going to need shoes." The secretary added dryly. Looking down at your feet you saw that you had forgotten to put on the shoes Natasha had dropped off. Cursing your mistake, you turned around to make the march of failure back to your room.

From there, you called Natasha in hopes she could come get you from the hospital, but her phone went to voicemail. You were dialing Steve's number when the nurse from last night came in with a chart.

"Ready to go, are we?" You nodded and watched him drop the chart by your bed. "You're free, Miss [Y/L/N]." He backed out of your room and you hit dial. Steve's phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"Hey Steve, it's [Y/N] and-"

"[Y/N?]" It was Bucky. The line was quiet for a few heartbeats before you started again.

"Hey Bucky. Sorry, I didn't realize you were back at Steve's place already."

"Erm, yeah." Intent on making the conversation as un-awkward as possible, you continued talking.

"Look, they won't let me out of here until someone comes to take me, so if you could just ask Steve to come by when he's got a second, I just..." Your voice trailed off. For a moment you thought Bucky had hung up on you, but the next moment he was speaking, albeit a little hurriedly.

"Icouldcomepickyouupifyouwant?"

You couldn't help but laugh. On the other end, Bucky laughed a little too. It was a relieving sound to hear. 

The situation properly diffused, you agreed to meet Bucky in the lobby in twenty minutes. 

The secretary who had stopped you earlier watched you warily while you paced the lobby several times, stopping to straighten your shirt or hair, or stare at the door. Every time it opened, your head whipped around to see who was there. You were sure by the time you left, you'd have whiplash.

What you were on such high alert about wasn't entirely clear. Sure, hospitals made you uncomfortable and you couldn't wait to get out, but this was more than that. _This is about Bucky._

As much as you tried, you couldn't get Bucky out of your mind all morning. Would what you had said last night still stand? Could you really be friends? Why were you still blushing like a little girl when you thought about the idea of sleeping next to him, despite what had happened? You answered your own last question as you stood staring at the vase of fake flowers sitting on the reception desk. You stared at the paper flowers bitterly, kicking yourself for having a crush on possibly the worst guy in the entire world to have a crush on. And when your head whipped around for the fourth time to see Bucky shuffling into the waiting room, his oversized sweater covering one arm, his hair pulled up in a messy bun, well, you kicked yourself again.

"My saviour." You joked, walking over to him. He waved to the secretary and she nodded, giving you the official go-ahead to make a break for it. Bucky followed you as you rushed outside into the parking lot, a light breeze blowing your hair around. You had to stop there, however, because you had no clue how Bucky had gotten there.

He came up to stand beside you, careful to keep substantial space between your bodies. "I have Natasha's car." He said, motioning to a black car parked in the loading zone.

"Okay." You said. His tone wasn't cold, just distant. You weren't mad, but it was kind of frustrating to think that you might've had a connection and now... now you were back to sqaure one.

You could almost feel yourself deflating as you stared out the window in silence as Bucky drove you home. Finally it was too much, and you gave up.

"I know we said we wouldn't talk about it, but..." You looked over at Bucky. He was staring intently out the front window. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. You immediately regretting speaking. "Never mind." You mumbled. You turned back to looking out the window.

"I am sorry."

Bucky's voice was soft, and you matched his tone, secretly relieved he was at least speaking to you.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

You were still looking out the window as you spoke, so you missed the ghost of a relieved smile that passed over Bucky's lips.

"And you're... okay?" He asked hesitantly.

"Never been better." You assured him.

"I... good." 

The silence was more comfortable now, and you even took the chance of turning on the radio, which was preprogrammed to an oldies station - probably thanks to Steve. The music filled the car, softly at first, then picking up. You didn't know the song, but it was nice. The singer's voice was low and sweet, and you closed your eyes to listen. Soon, a quiet voice joined the first. It was a little raspy, a little off tune, and it sounded a lot like... _Bucky._

Glancing sidelong at him, you saw he was quietly mouthing the words to the song. Your heart fluttered as you watched him, hoping against hope he wouldn't look over at you.

"Oh, um..." Bucky's voice stopped abruptly. "I didn't realize..." he blushed. "I guess I remembered the words, I-"

You laughed. "No, go on. It was cute." Hold on, did you say cute? "I mean, not cute. You're cute but - no. I... My head hurts."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh now, and he did. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You were turning onto your street now, pulling up in front of your apartment.

"You need to go back to the doctor?" He asked, an edge of genuine concern to his voice.

"No." You said, a little too abruptly.

Bucky laughed again, and you smiled with him. You had thought you were treading dangerous territory, but you realized now you'd completely misjudged Bucky. He really was getting better, just like Steve had said. Despite everything, maybe you didn't have to go back to square one. Maybe you could be friends. A little lost in thought, you didn't notice Bucky turn off the engine and jump out of the car to open your door. You thanked him for everything, and turned to go inside, expecting him to return to the car. Instead, he followed you.

"Oh." You said.

"Yeah." Replied Bucky. "I just, one more thing."

You cocked your head to the side, inviting him to ask whatever he liked.

"Back there, in the car. You said I was cute." There was something in his eyes that you had never seen before, but you couldn't place it. Your heart was in your throat as you tried to explain.

"Yeah, I just meant-" You started, but Bucky cut you off.

"I just wanted to say I think you're cute, too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another really short chapter. 
> 
> I'm sorry, I kept jumping between this and another stupid fic I'm kinda writing.
> 
> Yeah, there's not even any Bucky in this chapter, I'm terrible.

You took the stairs back up to your apartment in a daze.

 _He thinks I'm_ cute _? Jeez, I can't believe I said that. This is ridiculous. I'm like some sort of lovestruck teenager._ You chastized yourself. He was probably just being nice. Friends can call each other cute, after all. Natasha called you cute all the time. That was it. No big deal. If that was true though, if you were just being friendly - you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. It wasn't as if you'd ever really thought you'd have a snowball's chance with Bucky, but you still would've liked...

No.

You weren't about to let yourself get stupid over a boy. You had to distract yourself. Venturing into the bedroom, you found that someone had already cleaned up. The wall you had crashed into was patched up, and the bed was even made with fresh sheets. As you stepped into your bathroom you couldn't help but wonder who had done it. Natasha had a key, so she could have let herself in. Or Steve might've stopped by. When, though? As you brushed your teeth, you decided it didn't matter. There was no reason to dwell on what happened, and it would probably be better to just compartmentalize everything. You used to be so good at compartmentalizing, after all.

After you escaped captivity, the SHIELD psych team had followed you for months, to no avail. In your waking moments, you could barely recall anything that had happened to you while you were held prisoner, which had both upsides and downs. You had met Alexander Pierce for the first time only a day after you arrived back in Washington by helicopter. He drilled you on everything from the appearance of the guards who had held you to what little food they had given you. You'd barely been able to tell him what language they spoke, let alone - and now, well it was probably all just a front anyways. Given who Pierce was, you wouldn't be suprised if he had organized your capture himself. A shudder went up your spine at the thought, and when you looked down, you realized there was toothpaste all over your hand from squeezing the tube too tight.

That was the most you had thought about it in years. This, the nightmare, it was terrifying. You'd never talked about it, any of it. Why was it coming back to you now, years later?

Of course, you knew why.

You'd vowed to never get involved with SHIELD again, and then Steve showed up. And then you promised to look after Bucky. You'd know the man less than a week and he was already making you come apart at the seams - no. It wasn't his fault. If you felt terrible, you couldn't even imagine what he felt. There was an ache in your heart for him, and this time it wasn't about your crush.

Rinsing the toothpaste off your hand, you retired to the living room and turned on Netflix. Ten minutes into an episode of your favourite show, your phone rang. Not wanting to get up, you reached as far as you could to grab it, and then flopped back down to answer.

"Hello?" You said.

"Hi." Steve replied.

"Oh, hi. How're you?"

"Fine. You're doing better?"

"Much," you replied. "Hence the being at home. Is Bucky around?" You couldn't stop yourself from asking, and as soon as you did, you regretted it. The line was silent for a good thirty seconds before Steve spoke again.

"That's what I meant to call about." Steve spoke hesitantly. Your brow wrinkled.

"Is everything alright?" You asked.

"No, yeah, it's fine. I just... I wanted to make sure you're okay... with Bucky."

"Huh?" You asked, slightly confused as to what was happening.

"Look it's not that I think you'd hold a grudge but Buck's been real torn up about this, so I wanted to check in on you and just... I'm sorry, [y/n], I just wanted to make sure he knows that you don't hate him."

"Is he around now?" You asked.

"No, he went out before I got home."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Steve, he went to free me from the hospital. We're good, I promise."

You heard a relieved sigh on the other end of the line and smiled.

"I didn't realize, I shouldn't have even called, I-"

"Don't beat yourself up. You're just looking out for Bucky. You and me both."

Steve's voice brightened. "Good. He's a really great guy, believe me. And he really likes you, you know. Feel free to drop by and visit, alright?"

You tried not to sound so eager to agree, but weren't sure you succeeded. He _really liked you_? Despite your strange morning, things were getting better. Grabbing the remote again, you resumed your show, but found it hard to focus when your mind was occupied entirely with the visit you were planning to make the next afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be a relatively short chapter compared to others. I'm thinking of going to about ten chapters, depending on the reaction. I don't know if there's anything else I should be telling you. Have a good day?


End file.
